Twisted-Games

RHYS
HEARING THE WORD FUCK LEAVE BRIDGET’S MOUTH IN THAT POSH, PROPER
voice of hers…
It took every ounce of self-control I had not to do what I’d said I would
do. What she’d asked me to do.
But even though I wanted nothing more than to throw caution to the wind
and say fuck it, I’d give her exactly what we both craved, I didn’t. Bridget
was still drunk. Maybe not as drunk as she’d been half an hour ago, but
intoxicated enough to have compromised judgment.
I had no clue if this was her or the alcohol talking. Hell, she’d been ready
to go home with Vincent Hauz, and she hated him.
“That wasn’t a promise, princess.” My fingers dug into her skin.
“It sounded like one to me.”
Jesus. Temptation was so close I could almost taste it. All I had to do was
reach out and…
What the hell are you thinking, Larsen? my inner conscience snarled.
She’s your client, not to mention a goddamned princess. Get the hell away
from her before you do something you regret even more than what you’re
doing now.
It didn’t matter she was only my client for two more weeks. She was still
my client, and we’d already shattered almost every professional boundary
tonight.
“This is what I meant,” I bit out, unsure who I was more pissed at, her or
me. “You’re acting like a different person. The Bridget I know wouldn’t be
asking her bodyguard to fuck her. What the hell is going on with you?”
Her face hardened. “I didn’t sign up for a heart-to-heart, Mr. Larsen.